Dragon Wars: Arrival of hope
by RECKLESS SOLDIER-MS
Summary: It is a time of desperation and war. The Jedi order is scattered and broken, relying on only a new hope, when the force itself decides that more hope is needed to face a coming darkness perhaps worse than the emperor it delivers into the rebellion's hands natives of a primitive world. These unexpected heroes will tip the balance and become heroes of the galaxy.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or Star Wars

Hey guys, back with a new story, actually the second crossover I've published in the day (at least my day in England, a day that's about to end :)

I recently posted a poll over what kind of Dragon Age cross over you'd like to see. Star Wars was a choice and I had a Star Wars and Dragon Age crossover on my mind, I've had some writers block with an Old republic crossover but have made some progress ideas wise with the original trilogy plus the original trilogy has been shown on ITV (along with the okay (in my opinion) prequel trilogy). This fic came from playing lots of Dragon Age, old school star wars games on the PC, episodes of the Clone Wars and surfing the Wookiepedia page.

The fic sees my warden Daylen Amell and his Awakening companions (post the story, so no Justice) going into the Star Wars universe and allying themselves with A'Sharrad Hett, I know the part he plays in the Star Wars legacy series but that wont come into play but I do have plans concerning the Darth Krayt character. Vader and Palpatine are the lords of the Sith, but there are other dark jedi or dark side users like the Inquisitors. This story will cover the original trilogy plus some additional story lines and a forth arc that wont be related to the upcoming seventh episode. Other Jedi will come out of hiding and other extended universe characters will also appear, such as Starkiller from Force Unleashed and Ahsoka Tano from the Clone Wars, who will join the Millennium Falcon crew.

Now that that is out of the way, enjoy.

* * *

Dragon Wars: Arrival of hope

Episode 1: A risen general, a tormented general

Dreams, every night he had dreams of the past and of the possible future. His connection to the force was not what it had once been, only one Jedi had maintained his bond with the force, a Jedi he had had the unfortunate fate of meeting and even crossing light sabres with. A'Sharrad Hett was like many Jedi, broken and tormented not just by the Clone War, but by the fall of the Jedi and the rise of the Empire. Once he had been proud, a leader of a Tusken tribe, but even that had been taken from him. His hair greyed, his skin wrinkled, his arm severed, he was no longer the master swordsman he had once been, but above all that his connection to the force and his emotional state had been driven to a point he at one time believed it would never reach. Forced to look back on those days, A'Sharrad realised that the Jedi order's fall had begun with their arrogance. The Sith rule of two, once believed to be a reduction of the Dark side's strength had turned out to be the very instrument of the Republic and in turn the Jedi's downfall.

'There can only be two Sith Lords,' even the Jedi order taught of the Sith, and the dangers of the dark side, A'Sharrad remembered those lessons well for he was falling.

Or one could say he had already fallen, walking through the sandstorms of Tatooine, stripped of the Tusken mask he had been proud to wear, his eyes devoid of the light they once had. A'Sharrad was inches from crawling through the sand. But he dared not fall unconscious; even if the dark side had taken him he would not lose his strength. He was also afraid, for in a state of unconsciousness he would be forced to relive those care free days, the days of training with Master Mundi, of bantering with his clone forces, the hope of every victory they achieved and the assurance that all of the sacrifices hadn't been in vain. But those days would always be replaced by the horror of loss, the destruction of hope. A'Sharrad would always remembered feeling the death of one Jedi after another, as he cut down the men trying to kill him, the clone troopers he had bled with for so long. Then worse, the knowledge that he could have perhaps prevented the fall of the one whom had destroyed the Jedi in the first place.

He continued down his path of self-despair, his body moved in autopilot as his spirit relived those golden days, those simpler days. The days when the Jedi stood united, light sabres in hand against the Separatist forces that threatened the republic. When they led legions of soldiers, cloned from a Mandalorian warrior and every bit as skilled in battle against battle druids, soulless machines that one didn't have to feel guilty about killing. His green sabres would cleave through the armour of the druids and the blaster fire from the clone troopers would mop up the rest. It was in those days that A'Sharrad felt his best, that he had gained his connection through the force, for though it was a war he found peace in fighting, in protecting the front lines of the republic and the democracy the Jedi valued. But the golden days would turn red, as red as the sabres the Sith used. The droids would be gone and A'Sharrad would feel his blades rip through the flesh of his men, he felt the death of his master, of his friends and felt fear, he feared it was the end of the order, the end of the republic. His fear would turn to anger as he cut down the men whom so easily betrayed him, his rational mind provided answers that the clones had been programmed, but his rage would take over. He hated the troopers for their betrayal, he hated Vader and the emperor for destroying the world he knew, he hated Kenobi for taking away his pride but most of all he hated himself for not being able to see the fall coming. The Jedi had been foolish, they had already begun to fall by becoming soldiers. For thousands of years they had been keepers of the peace, and when they had been presented with power, with legions to lead they never questioned. They put their hopes in a prophecy, a chosen one whom only ended up destroying them from within, and worst of all Hett had seen the anger within that man, his sins yet had done nothing, had said nothing.

"I failed father," he snarled

The images grew darker, his younger self changed, the sabres turned red and some form of organic armour surrounded his being. He cut down thousands upon thousands of people over the course of several decades; his body itself morph and twisted into some kind of monster, like a Krayt dragon he destroyed all in his path. What he saw in the future was not him, or rather it was. It was the manifestation of everything he had tried to hide, of the hatred he had possessed since Aurra Sing murdered his father. The darker version of himself dropped the sabres and roared, becoming a complete monster. It was as Master Yoda had said, hatred led to suffering.

"RAAAAARGH!" A'Sharrad Hett, former Jedi Knight, former Tusken chieftain and a broken man screamed in agony, falling to his knees and smashing his hand against the sand in sorrow over his destiny. "Father I failed, and I will fail, though I outlive you by many years, you are still twice the Jedi, twice the man I am…the dragon's rage will overcome me, all hope will perish," he raised his hand and bought it down on the ground again.

He felt his knuckles rattle, he had clearly hit something harder than sand. Hett opened his eyes and looked down at the ground. Much to his shock he saw steps, stone steps and as Hett looked up he widened his eyes. It was no trick of the desert, the towers had crumbled and the walls were barely holding together, but it was not just a shelter, it radiated the same presence he felt when he first joined the Jedi order, when he walked through the halls of the temple. He had found a Jedi temple in the one place he did not expect, his home planet of Tattooine. He stood and began walking up the steps, directly into the temple. It was held together only by four cracked pillars, either it would be where the broken general met his end, or where he found his resolve again. He wondered if the force had taken him to this place just to die, or if he was supposed to find something within its barely solid walls. He looked up and saw another pillar in the centre of the temple, intact, then he realised it wasn't actually a pillar but a statue. It was a Jedi warrior, clad in armour with guards worn over his robes and a vibrosword held by both his hands, the blade rested against the ground. There was only one thing on the statue that wasn't decayed stone, the brooch of the cloak was a mirror of some kind, but time had worn that too, no reflection could be seen from it.

"Why have you brought me here father? Am I to die here, or to live, to live and be consumed by my destiny? Is what I saw my destiny?" he asked, begged for an answer, but nothing came, his connection with the force was severed.

But then he noticed something reflect off of the mirror, a light, the kind of light he never thought he would see again, the kind he never thought such an old mirror could reflect. He then heard a voice in the distance, a voice he never thought he would hear again.

"There is always hope!"

* * *

**A galaxy far away-Amaranthine harbour**

It had been two months since the battle between the Darkspawn forces of the Brood Mother and the Amaranthine Grey Wardens. The Arling was slowly repairing itself, the people were regaining the small freedoms they had lost during the Blight and had begun praising the new Arl, a man they once rebelled against as a hero. For during that time the Hero of Denerim, now the hero of Amaranthine had had to take drastic steps to repair the order. When his people rioted he had to personally kill those whom instigated those riots. However by choosing to defend the city over his keep, the Warden commander was seen for the hero he was. His help in establishing supply and trade routes had also repaired the land's economy. He was loved by his people and feared by the greedy.

Jacen Caius was a blood mage, an opportunist and a man led by his greed and ambition. Formally from the Kirkwall circle, he had been declared mad because of his belief that the fade was the gap between Thedas and the grand world beyond it. Already Meredith had locked him away for trying to preach that Thedas was one round world of many within the stars. They took away his telescope and his research notes. Fortunately Caius didn't need a quill or paper to record his plans. His escape from the circle had been easy, he only had to lose himself in the crowds of apostates in the city, the Templars always focused on the tower, never aware of the potential threats walking by them day to day. Kirkwall was a lost city; Caius had only one interest now, the fulfilment of his dream to open a portal to the far away galaxy and show the ignorant fools who mocked him just what their world was.

He motioned to his hired thugs and they moved the bodies into the circle formation as he asked. From one end of the harbour, to the boats on the river, Caius had set up meat circles. They were circles formed from human bodies, with their own blood written into the ground inside those circles. Lady Liza Packton had been eager to provide Caius with ships and men to guard him. He drew blood onto his own hand, forming a paint tattoo of symbols he had discovered in Tevinter. Then Caius began walking onto the boat, casting his eyes to the city. Some people were asleep; others were probably celebrating the anniversary of Anora and King Alistair's crowning. Caius cast a smile at the notion that the ignorant fools wouldn't see his spell coming.

"Soon they will see what I have seen, a galaxy far, far away," he said joyfully as he opened his arms.

Suddenly, Packton's men began to yell. Caius turned and looked up at the sky. Lightning bolts began to rain down on the ship. He raised his hands, summoning a shield of mana to block the bolts. Caius looked towards the port and widened his eyes. Standing at the port were the very people he hoped he wouldn't run into, the warden forces of Amaranthine. It seemed the warden commander was more dedicated to defending the land than his predecessor. Caius knew he should've trusted the rumours. He released a fireball from his hand, throwing it into the nearest warehouse. Flames began to spread through the building and it made Caius smile. Either the wardens would pursue him or the flames would spread to the city. Even if they did chase him the famous silverite knights were too heavy catch him. His overconfidence however was answered with more disappointment. He looked up as an object struck the sail of the ship.

"MOVE!" he yelled at his men, throwing himself to the side as the sail crashed down. "Damn it, what was that?" he asked as the soldiers drew their swords.

They looked through the dust as a man rose from the sail. He sported white clothes and armour, his right shoulder pad was shaped like the head of a dragon. The black hair man, his long hair tied up with a headband and ponytail wielded a black handled spear with a shining silver blade. As the dust began to settle the soldiers looked at his handsome face and saw his strong arms, and the blue eyes that seemed to glow like the magic he wielded. It was enough for Caius and his men to identify their foe.

"Warden Commander of Ferelden, Daylen Amell," hatred dripped from Cauis's mouth as his nemesis took a step forward.

"Those blood circles you made, I hope you didn't need all of them," the young man said.

"No, my ritual…"

"Won't be happening so long as I'm here," Daylen said.

"The fires are you going to abandon your people?" Caius asked.

"Captain Garavel knows what I expect from him, I suspect he's already leading his men doing away with those fires," the warden explained.

"But you're also surrounded," Cauis grit his teeth together; he truly hated how confident the man seemed.

Daylen Amell was from the Ferelden circle tower, which though its occupants recently rebelled knew nothing of the cruelty templars were really capable of.

"I'm not alone," Daylen said.

Caius looked to the floor as several round orbs rolled into his line of sight. The fuses ran out and the mage quickly dived for cover. Daylen raised a barrier to protect himself as the explosives blew his enemies back, covering the rest with wooden splinters. Those whom had survived crawled across the deck, screaming over their burns or the wood sticking into their faces. One man touched a metallic boot and looked up, into the red beard of a black armoured dwarf. The dwarf crashed his axe down on the man's back and looked towards the other wounded men.

"Easy pickings," he grinned.

"Oghren I think now is the time Daylen would want us to offer a surrender," a dwarf woman emerged from behind the berserker, wearing a brown version of his armour, in contrast to the bearded man she had tattoos on her face and a brand on her cheek.

"You take the fun out of everything Sigrun," Oghren muttered.

Caius walked over a bridge connecting his ship to another. He had to reach the capital ship before Daylen caught him. One would say speak of the devil and he shall appear, that also applied to thinking about him. The arcane warrior jumped the gap between the two ships and looked towards Caius. Sigrun ran across the bridge, Oghren on the other hand tried to copy his friend. The short man barely made the jump, his feet landing just on the edge. Daylen quickly grabbed Oghren's beard, pulling him onto the boat.

"Next time take the bridge damn it," he muttered.

"Sorry commander, now lets get him," Oghren hefted his axe onto his shoulder and followed Daylen.

"DON'T LET THEM THROUGH YOU FOOLS!" Caius yelled at the fodder.

The armoured men drew their swords and maces and ran at the commander and his companions. An arrow flew into one man's head, and the man beside him turned to the neighbouring ship. He didn't see a dark haired man in black leather armour swing onto the sail. The archer knocked an arrow back and let it fly into the top of the man's head, he then fired another arrow, and then another, stopping three men from reaching Daylen. Sigrun moved in front of her commander, brandishing two long swords. She deflected the two attackers and then swept her blades in an arc, beheading both soldiers.

"Nice shooting Nathaniel," the perky dwarf said.

The stoic archer jumped onto the deck and took aim with his bow again. He sent an arrow flying into Caius's shoulder, just as the mage jumped onto another ship. Caius fell in a heap, yelling as his men helped him up. Nathaniel fired again, hitting a thug in the neck.

"YOU DAMN FOOLS! KEEP THEM OFF OF ME! PULL THE BRIDGES OFF OF THE SHIPS!" he yelled, ripping the arrow out of his shoulder and sealing the wound with his magic.

Daylen ran alongside his growing group, sweeping his spear through one enemy after another. Nathaniel ducked underneath a sword and drove his knife through the attackers chin. Oghren knocked down two enemies and Sigrun bought a man to his knees, before slashing him across the face.

"So, do you know what kind of magic this is?" elsewhere, another mage was annoying an elf woman.

The human male mage was wearing a blue and brown coat with feather pads on his shoulders. He carried a smooth, ornate staff and his blonde hair was tied into a neat tail. Behind her, sharing the rowboat with him was an elf woman, also a mage but far different from him. They both practiced magic of different types and had been taught those skills in different ways. She was of the dalish elf tribes, wanderers of the wild. Thus she had a wild appearance, her green and brown robes had been made from the materials of the forest, leaves and iron bark, a wood as sturdy as armour. Her wild appearance made her no less beautiful than a lady of the court however; her tanned skin and blonde hair always caught the mages eye.

"Advert your eyes Anders, and no I don't know what kind of magic this is," she said.

"Oh well, maybe Daylen will have a better explanation sir pounce-a-lot," Anders said, scratching a ginger cat hiding within his coat.

"You bought that pesky creature with you again? Commander Amell has told you about that," the elf said.

"Velanna he's been cooped up in the keep all day, if justice were here he'd call that imprisonment," Anders said as the boat tapped the side of the ship.

"Your coat doesn't qualify as a better cell Anders, and be careful when you bring Justice up in front of the commander," Nathaniel said, throwing a line to his fellow wardens.

Daylen moved ahead with Sigrun and Oghren, fighting as a warrior like they did. Lightning seeped from his blade with every slash, for every person he cut down, another was electrocuted, fused their armour by the burning electricity. Upon reaching their commander, his fellow mages unleashed their magic. Velanna threw fists of stone from her staff, knocking soldiers off the ship, Anders created blizzards with his own staff, freezing enemies for Oghren to shatter. Nathaniel drew two daggers from his hip and slashed through an enemy's armour, then threw one of the daggers into an archer's chest.

"So Daylen, old buddy, best friend from the tower, what kind of mage is Caius, cause so far I've only seen basic spells from him, do you know what those blood circles are for?" Anders asked.

"No, but I'm glad we destroyed them," Daylen said.

"Now we just need to do away with him, what in Thedas possessed him to kill all those people?" Nathaniel asked.

"My moneys on a Desire demon, though pride is a close second," Anders grinned.

"Personally I just think he just had a bit too much to drink," Oghren burped.

"You bought your stash with you," Daylen narrowed his eyes at the dwarf.

"What, its not like its anything different from what we've encountered before, evil blood mage with evil plot to sacrifice many lives, now we just have to catch him," the dwarf explained.

"Then lets get to the capital ship already," Daylen said.

He twirled his staff around and led his companions forward. More men flooded onto the boat, whilst the others pulled the bridges off of it. The Wardens however were not so easily intimidated by superior numbers. Daylen span his spear in a wide arc, cutting apart several men around him. Sigrun stabbed a man in the gut, and then slashed him across the throat, she then parried another blow and countered, her blades ending another life. Oghren took of a limb, or crushed armour with every swing of his axe. He revelled in the combat, roaring like an animal as he pushed several men off of the edge of the boat. Anders fired one blast after another from his staff, using a barrage style of spell casting that had become an official art of combat mages. He then slammed his staff into the ground, summoning a fist of light that knocked several men off of the edge of the boat. Nathaniel ducked and side stepped the blows of his opponents, slashing back with his knife and kicking them into others. He pulled a scarf over his mouth and nose and removed a bomb from his pouch. Pulling off the cork, Nathaniel released paralysing fumes on his enemies. They stopped, twitching, then they fell to the floor and kept twitching until their deaths, having barely felt the sting of the dagger. Velanna fired a stream of electricity from her hands, frying her enemies until their skin melted on their armour. Daylen stood back to back with Nathaniel, both men glared at the enemies around them. The mage swung his spear around as Nathaniel ducked, driving back the men around them. Nathaniel then released smoke pellet and grabbed Daylen's arm. They moved through the smoke, both men slashing the enemies either side of them.

"THEIR STRENGTH IS INHUMAN!" one of the soldiers screamed.

"DO NOT LET THEM…" the commander gargled as Anders shot him with a bolt.

Oghren then ran into the coward, throwing him off the edge of the boat. The man began swimming to the capital ship, Packton's personal ship. The noble woman looked off of the edge of the boat, down at the last of her hired help with disgust. Caius however moved onto the end of the boat, gazing at his mirror, the mirror that would serve as his portal. He looked behind him, grinning as Packton ignored him and focused on the Warden commander. Her personal guard fired an arrow at the deserter, leaving him to sink to the depths.

"That was a waste of an arrow," Nathaniel muttered, angered by Packton's brutality.

She was a vocal supporter of his father, the former Arl of Amaranthine Rendon Howe. Daylen however had killed his father when he blocked his path in Denerim, and when the Blight was quelled the king and queen rewarded Daylen with Amaranthine. After a confrontation Nathaniel found Daylen to not be the murderer he expected, to be noble in more ways than just his family ties and title, something his father had forgotten. Daylen's companions followed him because he had gained their loyalty through friendship and understanding. Despite Anders claims, he and Daylen had only been acquainted at the tower and though their personalities crashed they formed a friendship from their mutual interest in greater mage freedoms. Velanna had once threatened the lands of Amaranthine and even tried to kill Daylen, but her understood her rage and revealed to her that it had been misplaced, giving her a chance to fight her real enemy in the darkspawn. Sigrun had lost her family in the legion of the dead when Daylen found her, and was intent on going to her true death, Daylen however gave her a new purpose and helped her settle into surface life. That was especially true for Oghren, believe it or not the dwarf had eased on his drinking habits and disciplined into an even greater warrior than he was in Orzammar. Having travelled with Daylen during the blight, Oghren had been with Daylen towards the end and Daylen had given Oghren the encouragement to find his first love and forge a life on the surface, Oghren even named his son after Daylen. The hero was surrounded by those of true loyalty, not hired help as Packton was.

"You should have given me the lands I was promised Amell, now you will pay for your insolence, HOIST THE MAIN SAIL AND BOARD THEM MEN!" she yelled.

Daylen huffed as he began to raise his hands. Fire raged from his fingers, the glow intensified as Daylen let out a roar like a dragon. Meteorites of fire began crashing into the capital ship, creating explosions that tore chunks off of the hull or threw men into the water. Others were burned, whilst debris from the sails crashed down on them. Caius shielded his face as a fireball landed near his position. A third threw him against his mirror. Daylen raised his right hand, firing three blasts in quick succession. Like arrows the fire slammed into the front of the ship, burning metal and wood. Packton raised her hands and screamed as flames hit her, she tried to run and jump off of the boat, but an explosion threw her off her feet. She fell to the floor, having died with the same agony she wished on many others.

"Well that wasn't at all difficult, evil mage beaten, much eviller bitch burnt to death," Oghren said.

The commander didn't smile; he didn't go in for that sort of humour. Velanna walked past Daylen and narrowed her eyes at the mirror. She looked at its unique frame and heard the whispers it gave off. Her companions also heard the whispers but understood little of its meaning.

"What is it Velanna?" Daylen asked.

"An Eluvian, a relic of my people, very old and very dangerous, prepare another storm commander, it would be best for us if that thing is buried at sea," she explained.

"I've never heard of a dalish wanted to bury their history," Nathaniel said.

"The Eluvians are dangerous, all keepers have come upon the agreement that to seek answers from them is not only fool hardy…but evil," Velanna's look grew dark, or darker than her companions were used to.

Electricity flashed in Daylen's hand as he walked forward. He stopped however as a hand slammed against the mirror. Caius was kneeling on the floor, his body horribly burnt and disfigured by Daylen's 'dragon fire'.

"I will, reach the far away land, I will go beyond AAAAGH!" he screamed as Daylen threw lightning like a spear, burning open his chest.

Caius the explorer was seemingly dead, but the damage was already done. Daylen and his companions looked on in shared shock as the glass of the mirror began to glow. The dust, blood and water around them began to rise as the mirror drew the dead towards it. Like a vacuum it sucked, ripping the planks off of the capital ship. The singularity began drawing Daylen and his companions off of their ship, ripping the planks and sails off of that too. He heard a cat hiss and looked to Anders.

"ANDERS!" he yelled at his fellow mage.

"I know, you were right," Anders said, hastily grabbing the cat before it could be sucked away from him.

Nathaniel stayed close to Velanna, looking to her as she grit her teeth together. Oghren looked as if he was being yanked by his beard and Sigrun remained passive, as if she knew death was coming and didn't want to fight it. The captain of the city guard, Garavel and his men looked towards the grand singularity, watching it rip apart the ships on the harbour, at least one of them had the men and women he had come to the respect.

"The commander," the other wardens and silverite knights watched the event happen in shock.

Some prayed, others bowed their heads and others continued watching. They watched as the ships, their comrades and the commander they believed in and served disappeared.

* * *

A'Sharrad looked at his surroundings. He swore on the force itself that he had heard his father speak to him. But he saw no hint of a force ghost and for a moment Hett believed that the exhaustion had finally gotten to him. Then he saw it, the mirror shine with a light a kin to a star. He heard a crashing sound outside and rushed to the entrance. There Hett saw that the sand storm had stopped, planks of wood had been imbedded in the sand, alongside the torn sails of primitive boats. The sand itself was wet as if there had been a rainstorm. A'Sharrad looked into the temple and saw the mirror shatter, his hopes were dashed so much that he fell back. Only the Jedi fell into the black-gloved hands of a stranger. A'Sharrad looked at the man who caught him, a young man in his mid twenties with armour like that of the Jedi statue and the bluest eyes he had ever seen. The young man pulled a water pouch off of his belt and tilted the liquid down his throat.

"Don't die," he said, "I still need answers," he turned his head to the desert and yelled out for help "ANDERS, VELANNA I NEED HEALERS NOW!"

A'Sharrad looked to the sand and saw a blonde haired man emerged from one of the sails, petting some strange ginger haired creature before putting it into his coat. A woman with pointed ears leant on a dark haired man, just a few years older than their apparent leader. Strangely two other humanoids of similar height were with them, the female was in the process of pulling the buried male out of the sand, yanking on his feet.

"Come on you drunken idiot you aren't dead yet," the woman snarled.

"Stay with us," the leader said.

A'Sharrad looked at the young man and like his blonde friend and the pointy eared woman felt the force pour from him. While the force flowed through all living things, the young man and his companions, particularly those whom carried staffs felt as if they were for lack of a better word containers of the force itself.

"We need your help," the young man said.

"The whole galaxy needs help," A'Sharrad said.

Was this what his father and the force had delivered? Heroes to help him save the republic? The questions haunted A'Sharrad as he felt darkness and unconsciousness take hold.

"Where in Thedas are we?" he heard the man ask and smiled, he was not familiar with the world Thedas.

"A galaxy far, far away," he said as his eyes drifted shut.

"ANDERS HURRY!"

**Star Wars Saga 1: Arrival of hope**

**Many years have passed since the eradication of the Jedi order. The last remnants of the order exist as wanderers, with many shadows of their former selves, none so lost and broken as former general A'Sharrad Hett. It is a period of civil war in which the Rebel Alliance fights tirelessly against the Galactic Empire, they have claimed their first great victory through the accusation of plans to the Empires ultimate weapon, the Death star, an armoured space station with enough power to destroy an entire planet.**

**The emperor in his bid to claim back these plans has charged his apprentice Darth Vader with chasing down the custodian of the stolen plans, Princess Leia. A grand surge has also appeared in the force, a surge all those whom wield the force have sensed. Jedi, both light and dark having sensed this great disturbance converge on Tatooine, determined to see if it is the new hope they have waited for.**

Next Episode 2: Explanations across the desert

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, I wanted to introduce the two main focus characters for the story arc, the original three (Luke Leia and Han) will still retain their important roles, so they wont be overshadowed by the Dragon age crew or the Jedi. A'Sharrad are just two characters I'd like to focus in terms of perspective on for this arc, it was important for this chapter because as I titled it, they are both generals, A'Sharrad is at his worst and Daylen is at his best, but there is a chance that both can change as the story goes.

Next time Daylen and his crew trek across the desert and listen to A'Sharrad's story. Meanwhile Vader pursues Leia's ship, covering the opening of the first movie.

Also, down the road which Clone War era Jedi would you like to see in the story, having survived the Jedi purge, they can have appeared in comics, TV shows or the movies, but a bit of rules on this they cant be resurrected and if their deaths were confirmed on screen (like Ki Adi or Secura's deaths) then there has to be a reason for their survival that makes sense.

So tell me what you guys thought of the story so far please.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars or Dragon Age

This chapter we introduce some of the main OC villains and a familiar character from the Force Unleashed.

* * *

Dragon Wars: Arrival of Hope

Episode 2: Explanations

Daylen had been across a desert once, during his tour of the lands East of Ferelden. So as such he was used to the new environment his comrades had to acclimatise to. He and Nathaniel had the easiest time moving through the sand, and they had to carry the sled they made for their older companion. The two men had taken sails and shredded them until they could be used as cloaks and hoods. They had also put together from the wreckage enough wood to make a sled, and used the rope to carry it and Hett across the desert. Anders tried using the hood of his coat but was having the most difficulty out of all the others in traversing the sand. Even Oghren and Sigrun, whom wore the heaviest armour in the group and were more used to firm ground found in the deep roads, had a better time of wading across the sand. Oghren would occasionally sink however, leading Anders and Sigrun to yank him to his feet. Velanna also had difficulty adjusting, though she walked on a path behind the sled, occasionally giving Hett water.

"Anyone know where we are?" Anders asked.

"For the sodding fifteenth time NO!" Oghren yelled.

"A guess would be Par Vollen, maybe Rivain, not that I've been to either one," Anders huffed and puffed as he walked.

Despite his continued running from Templars and escaping the circle, Anders wasn't the fittest of the group. His method of escaping pursuers usually involved hiding, so as such cross country runs and even prolonged walks weren't something he was used to. The heat didn't help either; Anders questioned Daylen the most and demanded answers from the semi-conscious Hett. Daylen however insisted that the group get out of the desert first, attend to Hett's health and then get answers. Despite his role as a healer Anders kept his water container to himself. He removed the cork and tilted some more drops into his mouth.

"You've been drinking more than I do on a Friday night kid, save some for when you really need it," Oghren said.

"Easy for you to say, you're carrying a whole keg in that armour, give me some," Anders groaned.

"Stop complaining Anders, and Oghren don't drink the alcohol it'll only dehydrate you more," Nathaniel said.

"Pounce-a-lot is hungry," the mage sounded like a child complaining about a long journey.

Velanna adjusted the collar of her makeshift cloak and checked over Hett. She and Anders had examined him and found that despite his malnutrition and dehydration his body was in a much better condition than most people his age. His tattoos reminded her of Dalish markings, very few people were willing to permanently tattoo their faces, the action had to be done for a very significant meaning.

"I'm willing to follow you commander, but Anders has a point (I cant believe I'm saying that) we need answers and we cant go into the desert blindly, there doesn't seem to be an end to this desert," Nathaniel explained.

"That's because this entire world is one big desert," Daylen whispered, loud enough for only Nathaniel to hear.

"Impossible, that mad man's spell couldn't have taken us any further than the neighbouring continent, this Hett man must be delusional from his exposure to the heat, what he's been saying cant be true," the oldest of the Howe children wasn't used to panicking, or being surprised.

Daylen let go of his line and stopped the sled. He turned to face his companions, even lifting his hood off. The storm had calmed, so there was no danger of him getting sand in his eyes.

"One thing I learnt from my travels after the Blight is that Ferelden, Orlais, the Marches, they are not as advanced as they think they are, the Qunari have an explosive powder that utilises no magic, the formula itself is designed to explode," Daylen explained.

"Where is this going Daylen?" Anders asked.

"I'm saying that right now Caius's ideas of other worlds may not be as farfetched as everyone believed it to be, the Dalish believe the fade to be another world after all," the younger mage said.

"Yes, naturally if the fade is another world then the idea of other worlds existing isn't farfetched either," Valenna said.

"Did you know that the Anderfels developed virtually identical farming techniques to Ferelden, that they called farming exactly that, two separate cultures with little contact developed the same things, I once heard a word used by a scholar in Orlais, the scholar has been imprisoned because of his 'blasphemous beliefs'," Daylen huffed, he never liked religion, and he especially hated Val Royaux's grand cathedral, the capital of the chant of light religion, a religion that used scripture to hide its roots of bureaucracy, corruption and extremism. "He was a researcher into the stars, though not to make maps, he was studying the sky itself with a telescope, he said that our world was not the only world out in the vast blackness the stars resides in, he theorised that the round marbles he saw through that telescope were worlds like ours. He called the network of stars a galaxy, the same word that Hett has used, so again I go back to farming, people referring to it as farming and yet having no contact with one another, two worlds might also use the term galaxy."

The companions remained silent for a moment before they began to voice their protests about the impossibility of Daylen's theory, that they were no longer in Thedas. Daylen hadn't just recognised it from the things he had seen in his travels, not even his open mindedness was truly responsible for his current thought. He had seen the look in Hett's eyes as he spoke of a galaxy far, far away and saw no insanity and insanity was something Daylen was used to. The man also had very little reaction to the term Thedas, he had never even heard of the world that Daylen and his companions called home. The Qunari were from beyond the continent of Thedas, so what was beyond all of the continents? What was beyond the world's end? These were questions Daylen and other open minded people in Thedas asked, even when no one else would, even when they were locked up for it. Daylen questioned the systems, which was why he wasn't welcome in Orlais, a place rotted in traditionalism and religion, why he often clashed with the Dalish, people whom clung to old ways to the point of suffocation. In some ways Daylen hoped that Hett was right.

"You all need to do what you did when you joined me before, open your minds to views that are different from your own," his eyes fell to each member of his group one by one. "The view that your father was not the hero you thought he was," Nathaniel, "that some things are more important than your freedom," Anders, "that elves aren't always the victims and humans aren't always evil," Velanna, "that the world is bigger than you think it is," his eyes finally fell on his two dwarven friends.

Oghren nodded his head in agreement; he had become a surface dwarf when he had been born in Orzammar. His and Sigrun's initial views of the surface were very much like what the groups view was to their current predicament.

"We can get all the answers when Hett wakes up, now come on we've nearly reached the clearing," Daylen said as he put the rope over his shoulder.

"Clearing? What are you talking about?" Anders asked as he ran to catch up with Daylen and Nathaniel.

Daylen stretched his arm out, blocking Anders's path. The mage took Anders by his chin and redirected his gaze to the ground. Anders gulped slightly at the drop towards a hard rocky plain. They had finally reached something beyond sand, a field of boulders, caves and rocky hills, not quite a mountain but difficult for someone like Anders to climb. The mage let out a groan as his commander unravelled another bit of rope. Nathaniel and Daylen lowered one party member down the rocks at a time, tying the rope around their chests, they even lowered the dwarves individually. Both men tied their lines around Hett's sled and looked down to their companions. Daylen gave them the signal to brace themselves.

"This is going to work right?" Sigrun asked Anders.

"Don't look at me I don't know a thing about knots and climbing," he said.

They lowered the stretcher downwards, sliding the rope through their arms; both wore gloves and had pretty tough skin anyway. As they lowered their charge towards the other members of the group, both men looked at and memorised the potential grips on the rocks they could use for climbing down. Anders, Sigrun and Oghren took a hold of Hett's stretcher as soon as it was in their range and began untying the rope. Velanna on the other hand heard something in the wind, her elf ears picked up a sound her other companions couldn't. She turned away from the group, walking a few inches away from them, her staff raised hi. What she heard had sounded like the growl of an animal. In a way it was a fair assumption, for over the rocks hid a party of Tusken Raiders. Their faces shrouded with bandages and masks, none knew what Tuskens looked like, whether they were beautiful or grotesque. For though Tuskens had their own communities and culture, they were not civilised to outsiders and to them, every being that settled on Tatooine was not only an outsider but also an invader. The leader of the hunting band, KkH'Oar'Rrhr, also known as Hoar analysed the wardens, they looked like they were humans but did not cripple themselves with technology. He tightened his grip on his Gaffi stick, the weapon of his people. His eyes focused on the old man they had in the stretcher.

"_Finally we have found him," _he told his brothers.

Their search was over, they had found A'Sharrad Hett.

* * *

Space had no sound, that didn't make it any less terrifying. The crew of the Tantine IV could feel every hit from the Imperial Stardestroyer's cannons. The Devastator was one of the most feared Stardestroyers in the galaxy, all Stardestroyers were feared but some had a particular reason to be afraid. The Alderanian Corvette was dwarfed by the massive starship, a troop carrier that could easily dominate the security team. That however would not stop the uniformed guards from fighting back and defending the civilians. Under the guise of a Consular ship, a select few people within the Corvette maintained a sacred trust amongst one another and an understanding of the importance of their mission against the Galactic Empire. Nineteen years after Chancellor Palpatine became Emperor Palpatine, freedom was still preserved through the defiance of the rebel alliance. An alliance of systems that refused to bow to the Empire's dominion, the alliance was the galaxy's best hope of returning it to the ways of democracy.

Princess Leia Organa, a founder of the Alliance nodded to Captain Antilles as she retreated into the ship's cargo section. As the ship shook more and more, Leia found herself gripping the blaster she hid on her white dress. She yearned to fight the Empire in a more direct way, she had had to hide her involvement with the Rebellion through her career in the imperial senate. From a young age she had been involved in politics and had seen the worst of the Empire. Her father Bail had witnessed the fall of the Jedi order, and though he never spoke to her of it, Leia knew that Bail had personally known the emperor before he revealed to the galaxy just how grotesque he was in both his politics, his face and his very soul.

She felt something, a subtle shift in the air that she couldn't quite place. Her fear was of course that the Empire had sent out the 501st to retrieve what she had taken. Wherever the 501st went, the Emperor's right hand man and Sith apprentice Darth Vader would not be too far behind. It was not fear however that gripped her, not the optimism of her youth or even the arrogance her combat training had given her. There was no chill that ran down her spine but a warmth, as if she had been in darkness for so long and had found a light. The brown haired beauty was a practical minded woman however; she threw this feeling of hope aside and looked towards what was her best tool to aid the rebellion.

"Its time R2," she said.

A series of friendly beeps escaped the shadows, followed by a blue and white Astromech droid. Possessing both an armoury of tools and a spirit many felt was impossible, R2-D2 was no ordinary droid. Despite being the property of Captain Antilles, R2 had taken to Leia since she arrived. Antilles had told her that if there was anyone capable of reaching their intended target, of giving him what Leia needed him to get to the alliance then R2 was the one. Leia inserted the data disc into the droid's 'face panel' and as she expected the droid began to download what she had given him, and delete the original source. She knelt in front of the droid as it began to record her message.

As the Princess began to record her final hope into the droid, Captain Antilles oversaw his crew; his security team was already at the door. His ship, his home was within the hanger bay of a Star Destroyer. There was no chance of winning the battle, and a death in defiance was still death. He moved around the ship, ordering the non-combatants of his crew not to fight back, to cooperate with the imperial forces and tell them everything they knew. They knew as much as Antilles wanted them to know, what he and Leia had agreed to feed the imps when they were interrogated. Part of Antilles felt regret for deceiving some of his crewmembers. But then he saw them, the arms of the emperor, his enforcers the Stormtroopers. Whatever stand his men could've made was an utterly useless gesture; there was no winning the fight.

'Hopefully it has bought you time Leia,' Antilles thought as he pulled out his blaster.

The white and black armoured men gunned down the security forces. Antilles knew what kind of death he should have. He knew that he was about to die, so he dropped his blaster and put his hands on the back of his head. If the Empire were truly as evil as the alliance believed, then they would prove it at this moment by executing him. He would be an example not of the fate of traitors, but of the brutality these monsters were capable of. The Stormtroopers stopped however and Antilles felt a pressure on his neck. The gravity felt heavier around Antilles as a figure emerged from behind the Stormtroopers. Clad in black armour and a mask, Darth Vader stood taller and broader than any human Antilles had seen before. The eye shields of his helmet were pitch black, but Antilles could see his own face reflecting from the smooth surfaces. His heart thumped with every synthesised breath that came from the respirator on Vader's mask. Looking into the Sith Lord's eyes Antilles knew that he was feeling true fear. Suddenly he was yanked towards Vader's hands. He gasped, feeling the Sith's hands crush his throat. His vision blurred as Vader questioned him, his legs dangled off of the floor and his hands clawed at the man's suit.

"We're…on…diplomatic mission…" he gagged out every time Vader loosened his grip.

He knew he was going to die; Vader and his master were true evil. Vader wasn't interrogating him, he was torturing him, letting know that all of his efforts were in vane.

"If this is a diplomatic mission, then where is the ambassador?" Vader enquired, almost tauntingly as Antilles's eyes rolled into the back of his head.

His windpipe snapped and the Sith Lord threw his body aside like a useless rag doll. Darth Vader turned to his troops, his synthesised voice spoke a command filled with authority and rage, the primary fuel of his strength.

"Tear this ship apart until you've found those plans, bring the passengers to me, I WANT THEM ALIVE!"

* * *

Daylen ran his hands along the rope. Having tied it around a rock he tested the knot, it would need to hold if he was to climb down the rocks. There was no best case scenario from a slip, either he would land awkwardly and snap his neck or shatter his skull, even breaking a limb was something he couldn't afford to happen, not with the group having one wounded man already to care for. He threw his spear down to his companions and began sliding down the rocks with the rope, his gloves protecting him from the burn. Sigrun and Anders watched dreading the dangers, whilst Oghren stood at the bottom, perhaps in some vane or drunken belief that he could catch the taller man if he fell. Nathaniel remained by the side of the wounded man, his eyes drifting not to his commander, but the watchful elf. Though nowhere near the levels of the Dalish, Nathaniel was also trained as a hunter. He saw shifts in the rocks, movement from well-camouflaged figures. Gripping his bow, Nathaniel looked Velanna was electricity flowed from her fingertips.

"See, no reason to be afraid at all Sigrun," Anders said as Daylen landed softly.

"You were oohing and awing too," Sigrun countered, punching the mage's leg.

"Daylen the most physical mage I know (that's what she said…and that hurt)," Anders rubbed his leg as Daylen picked up his spear.

He looked towards Nathaniel and Velanna and upon seeing both on their guard, immediately raised his. A sound the likes of which the group had never heard before echoed, bouncing off of the rocks. Something struck Oghren's back, throwing him face first into the ground. Anders slammed his staff against the ground, forging shields of mana around each of his companions. Pellets of some kind flew into the barriers, but they had flown at a rate faster than even Nathaniel's arrows.

"Sod it, good thing for Dragon bone plate," Oghren grunted as he got off the floor.

Daylen made a grabbing motion and picked up a nearby boulder with his force magic. He threw the object, slamming it into a rocky formation. The creatures hiding behind the formation scattered for cover, brandishing their strange weapons. They were clad in garbs fit for the desert, but bandages covered every inch of their bodies, with goggles and masks covering their faces, spikes stretched out of the bandages around their heads. Sigrun grit her teeth together, the sounds the creatures made reminded her of Darkspawn brood mothers. She put on her helmet and brandished her swords, waiting for the creatures to make their move.

"We're surrounded," Velanna said.

"What sodding gave it away?" Oghren asked, swinging his axe off of his back.

"Don't let them huddle us together stay separated," Daylen commanded.

He raised his spear as more raiders emerged from their hiding places, brandishing sticks blunt enough to probably dent armour and shatter bone. His eyes darted around the plains, assessing the field of battle. The group was surrounded by fourteen raiders, all of whom had those strange weapons and sticks but above all knowledge of the region. They must have been the locals, people with right to the territory, and his group were trespassers. A commanding figure with bandages lighter than the other raiders stepped away from his people. His line of sight drifted between Daylen and Hett, and the mage began to realise that the raider was after Hett, but interested in him. The raider wanted to challenge him, his grip tightening around his stick, which had more decorations and trophies hanging off it, perhaps a personalisation or a symbol of his standing within their group. The cry for battle finally won out as the raider, no the warrior gripped twirled his staff around. His people stopped their screeching and dropped their guard only slightly.

"I think we should let the commander handle this," Anders said.

"Ha, like he handled those riots the peasants had over troop movements?" Velanna asked.

Daylen gripped his spear with both hands, ignoring Velanna's comment and the memories it bought up. The raider let out a roar and like a wild animal, leapt towards him.

* * *

There was a ripple in the force, a ripple that went out across the galaxy. Many had already felt it and she could feel them converging on Tatooine. The very nature of the force had seemingly changed, or so she liked to believe. For Maris had felt that ripple once before, only now it was ten times more powerful than the one she felt a year ago. That first ripple had changed her destiny; she knew this next one would change the entire galaxy. As her transport ship began to land on the fringes of Mos Eisley, Maris closed her eyes and lost herself in that ripple again. She sensed great power, great anger, Vader was in orbit but he obviously had bigger matters to attend to. Her consciousness remained on the planet, searching the deserts of the Sand people. She nearly gasped in shock, feeling a force sensitive at a moisture farm of all places. That young man dwarfed the two force sensitives she sensed fighting in the desert.

She felt each strike from the duel, all of the rage and discipline going into the strikes. Watching it through the force was like watching a storm, she couldn't see the faces of the men fighting but she could feel the emotions and the raw power that emanated from their battle. One was overcome by a bestial blood lust, and the other was like a hunter, calm, disciplined but enjoying his work, revelling in the fight. The Zabrak woman sensed something more than just the power of the force within the hunter. His connection transcended the force; he drew on the power of an entire world.

"So familiar," she mused.

Her companions began preparing equipment for a covert takeover. The Empire would no doubt occupy Mos Eisley in the wake of the battle that had taken place in orbit. Maris ran her hands around her tonfa sabres, she yearned to meet the man, a man whom ensnared her perhaps as much as her master.

"We shall wait before we strike the imperial forces," she told her crew.

They paused and looked at her, not to think of an opposing argument but to process and accept what she had said. Maris Brood was once the apprentice of a Jedi master, she had survived the Jedi purge through the most brutal means. Shaak Ti had tried to purge her of her survival instincts. But Shaak Ti had been killed, for all her talk of the light she too had fallen just as other Jedi masters had. To survive Maris sought the embrace of the dark side and the power bought forth from the ripples.

"Is it someone like him?" her second in command asked, Fell Ore was a Miraluka, one of the few left of his species.

His species were very human like in nature, but were born without eyes. Common amongst his people Fell wore a black blindfold over where his eyes should have been. He saw through his connection to the force, like Maris he could see just how powerful the ripple in the force had been, perhaps more so than any Jedi or Sith lord. His silver hair hung off of his shoulders and bangs drifted over his forehead. He wore a black coat with light armour covering his chest and knees, black cloths connected to his belt hid a light sabre. Fell however was no Jedi Knight or follower of the Sith ways, he served Maris's master and was as loyal, if not more loyal than her.

"Perhaps it is Fell, we shall have to wait and see," Maris grinned.

"The boss wont approve you know," another of Maris's crew spoke.

His voice held no respect. Maris calmed herself, she was given away her intentions to none force users. The man known simply as Ordo was a Mandalorian; he wore the armour and jetpack that had become signature amongst his fragmented people. His black and blue armour was not the only weapon he possessed. He used a pair of blaster pistols and an antiquated heavy blaster. Maris knew little of the Old Republic, so she didn't know what had become of Canderous Ordo's own signature weapon, whether Ordo was a descendant or a warrior using the name as leverage for his reputation. Ordo however didn't fight for money, only the honour of the fight. A warrior through and through, he allied himself only with those of great strength.

"He might order me to kill you," Ordo said.

Maris shared the snarl of her Trandoshan apprentice. Rukk had the same reptilian appearance all members of his species had. Hardly an ideal apprentice however, Rukk had not constructed his own light sabre and his duelling skills were lacking. Though Rukk was eager to please her, Maris felt that a new apprentice was in order. Rukk was savage and unrelenting in his attacks, but she required someone with the intellect to lead. A blue skinned Twi'Lek female served as the crew's tactical expert and intelligence operative. She wore simple street clothes, a red long sleeved jacket with grey gloves and a white shirt. Two pistols were strapped to her thighs.

"The droids are ready to deploy, I calculate that if we release them remotely within six minutes of arriving at the space port, we will be able to establish a perimeter around the port and intercept our targets before the Imperial Inquisitors arrive," the Twi'Lek explained.

"Thank you Calina," Fell said politely.

"What if the Inquisitors arrive earlier than expected?" Ordo asked.

"A full tactical retreat as the master commanded, we can not afford to be discovered at this crucial point."

"Don't fear Fell, just give me enough time to speak with the one whom came from the ripple," Maris said.

"If his or her character is anything at all like the masters then they will not fall easily," Calina said.

"Fall?" Maris looked at her companions in confusion. "I don't intend to bring him down…yes it is indeed a he, I sense great power in him, I will help him rise," she smiled, running her fingers across her lips.

Fell sensed the anger coming from Rukk. If Maris was not careful the Transdoshan would do something reckless to gain her favour. That would put their mission in jeopardy; Fell was not about to let that happen.

* * *

Inquisitors were not Sith, Sith claimed power for the sake of power. They were guided by a never-ending rule of two, within the Sith there could only be a master and an apprentice and both were destined to betray the other. The apprentice of course had to kill the master to truly be lord of all Sith, and the master had to hold on to his or her power. There was no trust or purpose within the Sith order. The Inquisitors however were with purpose, a purpose that the Empire had given them. Force users, dark Jedi, they were by many names that fit their role well. Each Inquisitor drew on the dark side of the force, but they were not dominated by it. Whilst technically it could be said they had fallen to the dark side, a Jedi bowing to the emperor for nothing more than the preservation of his or her own life was a betrayal of their previous loyalties.

Gavin Hokk had been a Jedi once, but seeing their potential for corruption he left the order before the clones turned against their Jedi generals. Rather than go into hiding he surrendered to the emperor and suggested an idea, use force users to hunt force users. Gathering Dark Jedi and force sensitives, the Inquisition had been formed to hunt down Jedi purge survivors or force sensitives, once they found their targets they either converted them to the dark side or killed them. Over the years Gavin had converted seven force sensitives, at least two of whom had been Jedi once though Gavin didn't rely on his memory alone for that. In truth after killing fourteen people whom refused to serve Gavin had lost his enthusiasm with his job. His purpose still remained, control the balance of the force.

He wore the black armour and clothes that was common amongst his order. His handsome face showed no signs of the dark side's degrading effects, even his eyes remained the clear blue colour they had been when he left the Jedi order. Brown hair drifted over those eyes as he walked down the ramp of his landing craft. His hands were at his back, put together in a professional pose as the local crime lord welcomed him. Jabba the Hutt was a disgusting creature, then again all Hutts were. He however was a special kind of creature, he had his hands in the smuggling trade, the slave trade and just about any kind of criminal activity. Personally Gavin wanted to break the worm's neck, but his purpose was clear. Force users were converging on Tatooine and Vader had his hands full with the Princess. Gavin had to find, kill or convert these force users.

* * *

Daylen thanked his training with Alistair and Loghain. Even with the knowledge of an arcane warrior implanted within his mind, he needed the experience of two warriors, one a military general. Those teachings came in handy as he fought the leader of the raiders. He blocked each strike and countered with thrusts from his spear. The raider was savage, if anyone else used his staff weapon they could probably only make a bruise. The raiders however wielded their sticks with a strength that was only bought on by their anger, each strike could shatter bone. So Daylen was cautious, remaining out of the sticks reach, guarding his legs, if his opponent struck a leg or tripped him then he was done. He remained on his feet, kneeing the raider to push him back and keeping him at a distance with thrusts of his spear.

Hoar was fascinated by the human, he fought so well and he could sense a savage rage behind every counter. As their battle continued across the rocks, their companions cheering them on, Hoar began to understand the human more and more. He swung his Gaffi, and the man used his own gauntlet as a shield. The human slammed their heads together, dazing Hoar just enough to make him step back. The human then thrust his spear towards Hoar's face. He leant back, snarling as he felt the human's blade touch his mask. To reveal your face was to be shamed, and Hoar would not be shamed as his master had been. He charged at the human, shoulder barging him back first towards a rock.

Anders let out a sigh of relief as Daylen turned and stepped off of the rock, jumping behind the raider. Daylen swung his spear, but the raider guarded without even turning his head. It was clear to the Warden's companions that out of all their foes, the raider's leader was the most disciplined and trained of the group. Daylen charged his spear with fire, his deadliest element, and began swinging the weapon at the Raider. Much to his shock however the raider was ducking and guarding each blow. Daylen saw it, a type of energy field running through the raider's hands and into his weapon. It wasn't magic, or at least magic as Daylen knew it and it was very subtle, Daylen could only see it because the battle had heightened his senses with adrenaline. He fired a blast of lightning at the raider, whom redirected it with some kind of force from his hand.

Hoar began to understand the human more and more. As he lost himself in the force, Hoar cast aside his savage duelling skills and levitated the rocks around him. The humans were astonished by the show of power, but Hoar was not doing it to impress them, he used the force to crush his enemy, but also to understand him. Because Hoar felt that he could relate to this human. It was strange, he only valued the life of one human, yet this human was unlike any he had met before. He threw the rocks forward, but the human, his determination unwavering swung his spear. With every swing he split a rock apart, or altered its course. Flames had heated the blade of his spear until it was as sharp as any light sabre. Hoar threw more rocks, but his opponent kept on moving forward, smashing the projectiles to bits, sending pieces of stone bouncing against the ground and into their companions. This human had great rage inside him; rage bought on by a life of being hated simply for existing, just as the Tuskens were. Yet there was something else, a peace, a discipline Hoar knew he would never be capable of, the feeling the outsiders called hope. This man carried within him the hopes of the people he led, the hopes of people he protected, those emotions clung to him and strengthened him, beyond the rage of the monster whom killed Hoar's first tribe. He gripped his staff with both hands; if he was to die at the hands of this worthy opponent then he would do so as a Tusken. The human thrust his spear forward and Hoar braced himself for the end.

"STOP!"

A force wave threw the combatants away from one another. The Wardens and the Tuskens looked towards the sled, Hett sat up, the palm of his hand raised and a look of fury written across his face.

"ENOUGH FOOLISHNESS!" he yelled.

* * *

Darth Vader hid not only his anger, but also his concern well. It took a lot to get him worried, it was not just his search for what the rebellion stole that occupied his waking moments. There was a ripple in the force, it was the best way he could describe it. Every ship that approached Tatooine had a force user on it, the Jedi were not as extinct as the military believed. True they were no longer an order and many surviving masters were shadows of their former selves. But alls it would take was a single spark of hope to ignite the fire within every Jedi, just as Galen Marek had sparked the rebellion, the ripple in the force and whatever had come from it might be what the Jedi were looking for.

'No, the Sith were victorious, the dark side if absolute,' Vader thought.

He raised his head, feeling a disturbance in the force. He could sense someone, someone he hadn't seen since only a few months before the end of the Clone Wars.

'After all this time, you're still alive…my apprentice,' Vader turned away from the window, away from the display of the planet he despised.

The clanking of boots echoed through the corridors as the Stormtroopers marched to their leader. In their custody was a single woman, a woman who was just as much a threat to the Empire as the plans she had stolen. As Princess Leia approached, Vader saw her slip on the mask of ignorance and outrage. She had been in politics from a young age, but Vader was no politician, it took more than false looks and sincerity to fool him. He didn't need evidence, Leia's adopted father Bail Organa had been a Jedi sympathiser and helped to form the rebellion. Leia was her father's daughter.

"Darth Vader, only you could be so bold," she said, the rage in her voice made Vader smirk underneath his mask.

She had the subtle tremble of the force within her. But she would never be a Jedi, not without proper guidance and there could only be two Sith lords. Her loyalty to the old ways of the republic also made her unfavourable as an apprentice.

"The imperial senate will not sit still for this, when they hear you've attacked a diplomatic…"

"Don't act so surprised, your highness," Vader interrupted her self righteous lies, adding the final part as more insult than formality. "You weren't on any mercy mission this time, several transmissions were beamed to this ship by rebel spies, I want to know what happened to the plans they sent you," he explained, casting an unforgiving shadow over the princess.

But her determination and courage didn't waver, even within the presence of a man who could make trained soldiers tremble.

"I don't know what you're talking about, I am the member of the imperial senate on a diplomatic mission to Alderaan," she explained.

"You are part of the rebel alliance and a traitor, take her away," Vader said.

The troopers walked Leia down the corridor, leaving Vader to continue his walk to the bridge of the ship, alongside an officer named Daine Jir. Daine was an acceptable soldier, loyal to the empire but no fool, something Vader did not suffer with in his commands.

"Holding her is dangerous," Daine said. "If word of this gets out it could generate sympathy for the rebellion in the senate."

"I have traced the rebel spies to her, now she is my only link to finding their secret base," Vader said.

"She'll die before she tells you anything," but like so many others Daine underestimated the power of the dark side.

"Leave that to me, send a distress signal and inform the senate that all on board were killed," with their plans reaching a critical phase, the emperor could not afford to have people in the senate speaking out against him.

It didn't matter to Vader, the senate was on its last legs anyway. Soon only the empire would remain. The Sith lord stopped as another officer, one in charge of the troopers walked towards him. Praji stopped and bowed his head only slightly, Vader had no need for kneeling sycophants.

"Lord Vader, the battle station plans are not aboard this ship and no transmissions were made. An escape pod was jettisoned during the fighting but no life forms were aboard," Praji explained.

Vader lowered his head for a moment, the Princess was desperate but she couldn't have been as foolish as to simply leave the plans on an escape pod, for anyone to pick up on the surface of Tatooine. Tatooine was a place of two people, criminals and honest working people, both the kinds of people that kept out of the Empire's way. Reports indicated that Leia was often with a droid. If Leia had done what Vader thought then she truly was clever, but it was only delaying the inevitable.

"She must have hidden the plans in the escape pod," he said, looking to the commander. "Send a detachment down to retrieve them, see to it personally commander, there will be no one to stop us this time!"

No one could stop them; at least no one Vader had met yet. He looked into the force and felt a tremor, it was familiar, too familiar. He would have to ask Leia why she was going to Tatooine in the first place.

* * *

A'Sharad Hett stood proud, and he felt proud for the first time in his life. It was as if going into that desert had re ignited the spark of defiance within him. He had been reborn through the ripple in the force, reborn to guide the primitives that had come from the ripple. Having watched the primitive leader overcome Hoar and back him into a corner, Hett knew that he was dealing with warriors. Gathering his strength he stopped the battle and forced both sides apart. He stood proud again, respected by the young Tuskens whom dared to defy their tribesmen and feared by the primitives. But the primitives were not so afraid that they were incapable of standing their ground. Far from it, the primitives looked ready to fight again.

"We are not enemies," Hett told not only the primitives but the Tuskens as well.

After the tedious task of finding shelter, Hett told the primitives exactly where they were. Of course he left out the part about the force intending them to be here. He wasn't about to lose potential allies because they believed he was superstitious. Hett spoke primarily with their leader, the dark haired man in armour whom identified himself as Daylen Amell.

"This is Velanna of the Dalish, Nathaniel Howe, Sigrun formerly of the Legion of dead, Oghren and Anders, we are the grey wardens of Amaranthine," Daylen said.

Stories were traded and explanations made. Daylen told Hett of Thedas, a world that sounded like it was still in the middle ages. The young man said he could recount nine hundred years of history, what they call ages. Thedas was in the first quarter of its dragon age. He told them of the elves, the dwarves and the Qunari, and the existence of mages, the closest thing Thedas had to force users. Anders tried interrupting at times, perhaps wanting Daylen to give a condensed and clear version of the existence of mages. Daylen however told the complete truth, that mages had a connection to a place called the Fade, a pocket dimension that existed within Thedas. The Fade had creatures that were called demons and spirits, demons typically entered the conscious world by possessing either the dead or living mages whom had been deceived or whole heartedly agreed to become hosts. To avoid the risks of possession the Chantry, Thedas's church had created circle towers and the templar enforcers to oversee the mages, whom were locked away from society. It sounded like a primitive and less sympathetic form of the Jedi order. Choice was always a factor for the Jedi, because the relationship between the light and dark side of the force was choice, or so Hett liked to believe.

"Thanks Daylen, so Mr Fett…"

"Hett," Sigrun corrected the blonde.

"Whatever, you know about mages now, what do you intend to do, lock us up so that we don't unleash hell on…Tatooine? What do you think of us primitives and our circle towers?" Anders asked.

Hett remained silent for a moment before he looked Daylen in the eyes. He saw that Daylen's eyes were red, an unnatural colour to humans.

"One thing I've learned is that the capacity for good and evil is in all, it is those whom embrace evil that should be imprisoned, there is a popular concept across the entire galaxy, 'guilty until proven innocent', until they prove otherwise people should not be looked upon with suspicion or judged simply for what may happen. However, I do see the dangers of your abilities if they are not controlled, the key to control is you, for you to be taught," Hett explained. "In short Anders, I will keep an open mind until you prove that suspicion is necessary."

"Too bad the Chantry can do that."

"Just don't give him your manifesto," Nathaniel said.

"What about you, and that place we were in, if what you said is true and there are ways to other worlds, why come here and not some fancy beach world?" Oghren asked.

"Because Tatooine was where I was born," Hett said.

"Yeah, I hear you, home is where the heart is right?"

"Indeed, I am sorry but I do not know how to get you all home, alls I can do is tell you what you can do if each of you decides."

"We go where the commander goes," Nathaniel said.

"What? Wouldn't you rather get home Nathaniel?"

"Would you Anders?"

"No of course not but I would like more options than, 'lets follow the commander'," the mage said.

"Stuff it pretty boy," Oghren growled.

"Tell us what you know," Daylen said.

Hett nodded his head and told them about the state of the galaxy. The galaxy was enslaved by the Empire, democracy had become a thing of the past and cruelty amongst regional governors was encouraged by the dark lord. He told them how years ago the republic was living in a golden age of peace; every member state of the republic had a voice and could speak on affairs that affected trade and peace in the galaxy. However during the Empire's rise certain members began to leave the senate, a war broke out and the Jedi were purged to near extinction. Only the empire had remained in the wake.

"Every day I feel one more soul die because of the Sith, one more soul denied freedom," Hett said.

"Thousands of innocent people across the entire…galaxy, as you call it die everyday because of one reason or another, what reason is worth us turning our backs on going home for?" Nathaniel asked.

"Because the empire is dedicated exclusively to unnecessary death, the Sith emperor is pure evil incarnate, he would kill billions without a second thought or reason other than his own sick and twisted satisfaction," Hett explained.

Daylen remained silent and the wardens looked at him for a reaction, for guidance.

"I believe you, but I need to confirm for myself whether this empire is as evil as you say," he said.

"I expected nothing less, my men can guide us out of the desert and we can make our way to a nearby farmstead, I have credits to exchange for food and shelter you can rest up and I'll be able to tell you more about the state of the galaxy."

"No offence to you Hett," Daylen said as he stood up. "But I'm not going to put the fate of my warden brothers and sisters on everything that you say, I need another perspective, but I will travel with you to find that perspective," he offered Hett his hand.

Hett took the hand and shook it. It wasn't a promise or declaration, just an agreement between two men for both to keep an open mind. Hett however smiled, because he already knew that Daylen Amell was not the kind of man to sit idly by as innocents were threatened. Soon the empire would show Daylen and the whole galaxy why he needed to fight them. When he had those new allies, Hett could finally take the fight to the empire, and get his revenge.

Next Episode 3: A farm boy

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, Maris and her group are with a third faction that will appear in the second fic. Gavin Hok is part of the Inquisitor order, assassins within the Empire that consist of fallen Jedi and force users that have been given a small amount of training. At first I thought of using **the **Inquisitor from the new Star Wars Rebels series, but I don't know enough about him yet.

Next time Daylen, Hett and the group, minus the Tuskens travel to the farm of the Star Wars series best (you guys are welcome to your opinions but for me Luke was the first protagonist of the series, and judging from his exploits in the expanded universe one whom has held some of the greatest achievements) protagonist, chaos ensures as the less subtle members of the wardens try adapting to galactic life and tech.


End file.
